


Letters to You

by easyluckyfree45



Series: Riverdale Bingo Summer 2020 [3]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Character Study, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Letters, Love Letters, POV Male Character, Post-Season/Series 04, Vignette, literally so much angst so if that's not your thing this is not for you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-07-29
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25594786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/easyluckyfree45/pseuds/easyluckyfree45
Summary: Elizabeth,It’s been months since I’ve last written to you.I declared my major today and strangely enough, the first person I wanted to tell the news to was you. I am officially an English major with a Creative Writing focus. I’d like to think you would be proud.It’s getting harder and harder to recall the way you felt against my fingertips and the cadence of your voice. Sometimes I will want to replay it in my head over and over again like a song on loop. But I resist.Now I think I’ve almost forgotten it almost completely. I don’t know if I’m relieved or terrified. I think, if I’m being honest, it’s a bit of both. I want to forget you but the prospect is terrifying. If I forget you, I think I will forget the part of myself that is solely yours, the part that you have commandeered and stolen from me.I don’t think I want it back anymore. Let us sever it here.I am not yours. You are not mine.Sincerely,Forsythe Pendleton Jones IIIRiverdale Bingo Summer 2020 - Lost Love
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Series: Riverdale Bingo Summer 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847086
Comments: 26
Kudos: 80
Collections: 8th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees, Riverdale Bingo, Riverdale Bingo Summer 2020





	Letters to You

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the music video for What Sarah Said. It’s absolutely stunning and I would highly recommend it. I’m not linking it here since it is explicit. TW: self-harm and cutting
> 
> Prompt: Lost Love
> 
> _“Do not ask me questions”_ \- from Sense and Sensibility (1995), Marianne to Elinor

_And I knew that you were a truth_   
_I would rather lose_   
_Than to have never lain beside at all_

_"What Sarah Said" by Death Cab for Cutie_

**Il m'aime… (He loves me…)**

**2020: One - pas du tout (not at all)**

Dear Elizabeth,

It’s been 142 days since we’ve last spoken but I don’t miss you at all. I’m only writing this as an exercise because my university sponsored therapist thought it would be a good idea to assist with processing my emotions. I suppose this is a way for me to find closure.

Closure is such a funny word. I think I found closure the instant you decided that my love wasn’t worth having. Did you find closure, Elizabeth, when you kissed my best friend? Did you find closure when you decided to ignite everything that we had built together over the last three years?

I trusted you. You broke that. You broke me.

I hate you. I hate you so much I can’t even express how much I hate you into words and I’m supposed to be the talented writer. It’s infinite, my hate for you, much like my love was. You never deserved it.

I hate you and I want to forget you.

Sincerely,  
Forsythe Pendleton Jones III

**2021: Two - à regret (with regret)**

Dear Elizabeth,

It’s been six months since I last wrote and my therapist says that I need to do this again because clearly, I didn’t get much closure at all from our last correspondence. I think this is futile. I feel what I feel and writing a letter that I’ll never send and you’ll never receive is pointless. Expressing and talking about these emotions is stupid. It doesn’t change anything

What’s done is done. We can’t go back.

You’ve stopped texting me or reaching out. The first week after I found out, you called or texted me constantly. My phone had a consistent stream of notifications from you but now it’s dwindled down to nothing. You stopped trying after the summer ended and I wonder why. Is it because you finally got what you needed to move on from it?

Do you regret it? Are you sorry? Do you wish that you could see my face right now so you could apologize to me?

I don’t think I could bear to look at you now. I have not forgotten the curves and lines of your face. I wish I could but I think about them every night. They are becoming blurry and I hope that one day I will forget you completely. Perhaps then, this pain will disappear along with the memory of your face.

This is what I want. Please just let me forget you.

Sincerely,  
Forsythe Pendleton Jones III

**2021: Three - involontairement (unwillingly)**

Elizabeth,

It’s been months since I’ve last written to you.

I declared my major today and strangely enough, the first person I wanted to tell the news to was you. I am officially an English major with a Creative Writing focus. I’d like to think you would be proud.

It’s getting harder and harder to recall the way you felt against my fingertips and the cadence of your voice. Sometimes I will want to replay it in my head over and over again like a song on loop. But I resist.

Now I think I’ve almost forgotten it almost completely. I don’t know if I’m relieved or terrified. I think, if I’m being honest, it’s a bit of both. I want to forget you but the prospect is terrifying. If I forget you, I think I will forget the part of myself that is solely yours, the part that you have commandeered and stolen from me.

I don’t think I want it back anymore. Let us sever it here.

I am not yours. You are not mine.

Sincerely,  
Forsythe Pendleton Jones III

**2022: Four - comme une amie (like a friend)**

Elizabeth,

I don’t know why I’m writing this. It has been two years since we have been apart. When another year passes, we will have been apart the same amount of time as we were together. It’s surprising, isn’t it? How fast time passes by?

I don’t even notice anymore. Two years ago, I was watching my days pass, minute by minute, like grains of sand that fall through the hourglass, one by one, painfully slow. Now it flits by gracefully.

Your favorite author spoke at my university last month. I was one of the lucky few that scored a ticket to attend. The entire time I couldn’t stop thinking of how excited you would be to sit in the same auditorium as them, occupying the same space. I kept making notes in their speech of things that I would later want to relay to you, as if that is something that we can do now -- discuss and analyze.

I miss it -- being able to talk to you about this kind of thing. I don’t think anybody’s ever understood me the way that you did and now that it’s been two years, I’ve realized that not only have I lost the woman that I love, I have lost a friend. To me, you were both.

I hope you are happy. I mean that genuinely.

Forsythe

**2022: Five - aujourd'hui (today)**

Elizabeth,

I think this might be a coping mechanism. For some reason, even though I know that you will never read this, it brings me some semblance of comfort to speak these words to you. I can be candid here about my true feelings without consequence. Perhaps this is selfish of me but I think that it’s okay for me to be a little selfish here.

I loved you. I still love you. I meant what I said -- I’ll never stop loving you. I don’t think I am capable of stopping.

Jughead

**2022: Six - demain (tomorrow)**

Merry Christmas, Betty.

You’ve spent every Christmas we’ve been apart with your mom, gallivanting off somewhere that is not Riverdale. I understand why and a part of me is grateful for your foresight and planning.

Jellybean and I made Christmas cookies today. We attempted to shape them like Christmas trees and snowmen. I don’t think it came out the way it was supposed to because they were all formless blobs. They were still tasty though.

Jellybean had 6. I had 8.

I saved one for you. It will be in the fridge when you return.

Jughead

**2023: Seven - tous les jours (all the days)**

Betty,

Did you know that Iowa is the 18th flattest state in the US? I feel like this is a fact that you would enjoy. I am shocked to learn this because I always envisioned Iowa to be composed of potato farms and corn fields.

It's so much more than that.

This weekend, I went camping with some friends. I do that now -- camp and hike. I know you must be surprised. We laid in the pitch black night, the only light was from the stars that shone brightly above us. It was so beautiful.

I don't know why I thought of you but I did. I wondered if you were looking up at the same stars that night.

Were you?

Jughead

**2023: Eight - un peu (a little)**

Betty,

I went out on a date today. It was my first date with someone that wasn't you. It was also my first date in nearly 3 years.

She was nice, very sweet. She reminded me a lot of Ethel, actually. At the end of the night, she kissed me. I kissed her back. I was shocked that I still remembered how to do it.

It was strange, too wet and sloppy. I thought of your kisses; the ones we would sneak in the Blue and Gold, in secret, hoping no one would see but not really caring if they actually did.

We were so effortlessly in love. Why is it that it's been three years yet when I kiss another woman it feels like I'm betraying you?

I'm not. I'm allowed to love someone else. But I can't and I don't know why.

Why was it so easy for you to kiss someone else? Why can’t I replicate this? Why can’t I hurt you the same way that you hurt me?

You have cursed me. This is all your doing.

Jughead

**2023: Nine - passionnément (passionately)**

I'm dating her now. I hope you are jealous. I want you to be jealous. I hope that you stalk my social media accounts like I stalk yours. I hope you see that she’s tagged me in a photo: a selfie that clearly implies that we are romantically involved.

Betty, how do you feel? Do you hate me? Are you envious of her?

I want your hate. I want your jealousy. I want you to think about me and feel something towards me.

You haven't contacted me. Sometimes I think it's better this way.

Jughead

**2023: Ten - à la folie (unto madness)**

I slept with her. She told me she loves me. I couldn't say it back and instead, I bolted out of her room and vomited into the bushes outside her apartment.

Why have you done this to me? Why can't I stop thinking about you? Why can't I stop obsessing and hoping that you will find your way back to me one day?

I foolishly still desire it. Betty, please. Please don't let me go.

Jug

**2024: Eleven - beaucoup (a lot)**

I'm graduating in three weeks. I can't believe it's been four years since I've seen your face. I barely remember the shine of your green eyes and the rose scent of your perfume. Was it rose or was it gardenia?

I don't remember.

I accepted an offer from a publishing company in Seattle. I heard you'll be in DC at the FBI. Nobody talks about you to me still. Toni and Fangs walk on eggshells around me when it comes to you. I found out by stalking your LinkedIn profile.

Congratulations, Betty. I'm so proud of you.

Jug

**2024: Twelve - profondément (deeply)**

Seattle is chillier than I expected. It lives up to its reputation. It has rained 10 out of the 14 days I've been here.

I found a new therapist that was referred to me by my old one. She says that if the letters help me manage my emotions, I should continue to write them.

I lied to her. They don't help me process, they enable me to fixate. I can't let you go, even in this minimal capacity.

I will keep writing to you, Betts, even if you won't respond.

Jug

**2024: Thirteen - pourquoi (why)**

Dad and Jellybean are visiting me for the winter holidays. It feels so strange not to be with you in Riverdale for Christmas.

I don't know why I've kept all these letters. It will be a brand new year in a few days. Perhaps I should burn these and start a clean slate.

I know that I cannot and I won't.

This is how I hold onto the memory of you. You are not dead but it's easier for me to pretend that you are. Do not ask me questions. I don't have the right answers.

Jug

**2025: Fourteen - maintenant (now)**

I wonder sometimes what you look like now. Do you still wear your hair in a ponytail? Have you cut it? Did you dye it?

Would I recognize you if I were to pass you in the street?

I remember you, as you were, when you left me five years ago. In my mind's eye, you have not aged nor changed. You are today as you were then.

I wish you were not a static vision in my mind. I want to breathe life into you so you will move with grace as you once did.

Do you think about me? Do you miss me? It's been five years but I can't go a day without thinking about these questions.

Jug

**2025: Fifteen - toujours (always)**

Betty,

I'm coming back home next week. I think you are too. I'm terrified I'll see you, but I'll be so disappointed if I don't. I suppose there's no way I wouldn't see you as we're both in the bridal party.

Are you covetous that Cheryl and Toni could accomplish what we couldn't? Do you wish that you could take it all back so we could?

When you see me, will you greet me as an old friend? Or will you ignore me and pretend that I never occupied the confines of your heart? I don’t know which one will hurt less.

I will pack these letters in my suitcase with every intention of giving them to you. These letters are yours, they’re not mine.

My heart, it’s yours, not mine.

Jug


End file.
